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How deadly still its earth! The forest brute Has crept into his cave, and laid himself Where sleep has made him harmless like the lamb. The horrid snake, his venom now forgot, Is still and innocent as the honied flower Under his head: and man, in whom are met Leopard and snake, and all the gentleness And beauty of the young lamb and the bud, Has let his ghost out, put his thoughts aside And lent his senses unto death himself. Back Home |